


Here We Are, Together in the End

by DawnsEternalLight



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alfred is alive, Angst, Bruce is a good dad, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Comfort, Damian's POV, Dick is fine, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jason is part of the family, This is a fix it for Tom King's Batman run, Tim is not punched or stabbed, We cherry pick our canon, and Bruce gets to hug his kids, bruce's pov, but it's not real, how many times can I get away with making Bruce hug someone in one fic, so many hugs, sorta AU, sorta canon divergence, the end specifically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-19 03:20:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22671046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnsEternalLight/pseuds/DawnsEternalLight
Summary: My attempt at fixing a lot of the mess that was the end of the City of Bane arc in Batman. It's kinda the City of Bane arc only I take canon and get rid of large chunks of it and pretend other things never happened while having Bruce fret and give everyone hugs. Starts with Damian heading into Gotham and it ends differently than King's run.
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne & Everyone
Comments: 11
Kudos: 187





	Here We Are, Together in the End

**Author's Note:**

> Hi yes, I'm still big mad about Batman and the absolute dumpster fire King's run was. This fic is by no means perfect, nor is it everything I wanted it to be. That would take many more words and a lot more energy than I have, and honestly this is more of a vent-fixit than anything. It was originally intended to give Damian all the hugs and "Not your faults" I'll never see in canon, but as I started writing I realized more needed to be done so Bruce gets to dote on all the kids. That said, while everyone could use a 7k fix it fic of their own this fic is mostly still focused on Damian. 
> 
> A list of stuff I've changed:  
> That time Bruce punched Tim? Gone  
> Alfred dying? Never happened  
> Bruce taking a vacation while Gotham burned? Let's just pretend he had a roaring fever from being almost killed on a mountain instead and it took him a while to recover  
> Tim getting stabbed? Didn't happen either  
> Bruce getting shot a couple times? He got knocked out instead  
> Basically if it was questionable medical practices we've tossed it out  
> Dick getting shot? The bullet missed  
> Jason having a falling out with the family? Not on my watch  
> Bruce generally being a terrible dad and focusing way too much on weird nonsense? Think again  
> I also changed who shows up in the cave
> 
> I did keep some things for the sake of angst and my own personal need for Damian to get hugs, but most of the nonsense can just be brushed off as not having happened in here. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, after this I'm going back to blissfully writing about out of canon things.

Apprehension swelled in Damian’s stomach as he stood right on the outskirts of Gotham. He let his hand rest against the wand slung through his utility belt, it should have been an assurance knowing it was there, but it only made the sick feeling in Damian’s stomach rise, like waves crashing inside him, swirled into a storm. 

His toes curled in his boots, and he counted in his breathing. He’d need a clear head going forward if he were to succeed. He would have to move fast, and be confident with every movement, every word, and every action. Father had trusted him with this part of the plan and he would not fail. 

It was a simple plan with a number of steps, but one he could accomplish. If all went right, the others would retrieve Pennyworth from his hiding place and open up a line to the cave, Damian just had to be the distraction. 

He closed his eyes and breathed in, this was for Pennyworth and a successful mission. He could do it. He had to. For Pennyworth. 

Damian stepped into Gotham, and then burst into a run. 

Gotham Girl was first. Thomas’s Robin. Damian wanted to laugh at that idea, of course the villainous Batman would have twisted Claire’s mind and powers for his own. Of course he would pick his own Robin. 

She appeared before him, hovering in the air and ranting. An effect of the venom she’d been using most likely. Damian wished it hadn’t had to come to this. He knew her powers drained her life, and the last thing he wished to do was cause her more hurt. But he had to stop her, prevent her further attacking his family. 

Damian pulled the wand from its holster and aimed it at her. He could feel the magic in it humming against his palm. Raw and terrifying and always coming with a cost. He’d learned that well enough with the League. 

This was the reason he had to be here. The reason he’d thrown at Father and Drake and Grayson as he’d made his case to be the distraction. None of the others had the same experience with magic he did. 

It was not something Damian bragged about, but it was a skill he had. He would not call himself a magic user, or even good at it, but Grandfather had seen magic as an important part of his studies and had ensured he had been well taught. Magic itself was key to Grandfather’s way of life. What else could the Lazarus pits be called but magic? And for a man as old as Grandfather, well magic was simply another part of the world to be used for his gains.

He had learned enough to know the cost, and how to mitigate that cost. Knew the right tools would help his middling abilities work better. So he would use the Witch Boy’s wand. He also knew how to minimize the backlash from using powerful magic. Zatanna’s backward speech seemed to many to be a foolish way of tapping the world’s magic, but Damian knew it was an important step in controlling how much power was used. 

The spell spilled from his lips, “Seit taht dnib.” 

With it, magic strong enough to hold any Super bound Claire in place. Damian felt his own energy drained with the spell, but it was not so much he could not continue. He shook away the lightness from his head and moved on. 

He managed to stop rouges attacking an innocent man before Thomas found him. Damian jumped into action, spouting as many insults as he could and cutting the man off at every uttered phrase. He had to keep Thomas’s attention as long as possible, to give the others all the time they needed. So he’d pile on the bravado and drag things out until he couldn’t stand it anymore. Then he could lose Thomas and rejoin the group. 

Fighting an alternate Batman was not easy, even for someone trained as Damian was. Thomas was bigger than him, and while Damian was faster, every hit Thomas landed was a solid one with nothing held back. 

Just as Damian was thinking it was time to attempt his own disappearing act the real effects of the spell started to catch up with him. Damian’s vision doubled and he couldn’t quite take in a full breath. He was forced to stop, to try and clear his head. 

Thomas took advantage of his distraction, and kicked Damian’s feet from beneath him. Damian fell backwards, head crashing against the rooftop they were fighting on. Stars joined his doubled vision and made his stomach lurch. 

He rolled out of the way of a kick, launched his way from Thomas, and had to scramble to catch himself as he began to slip off the roof. A hand caught his wrist and lifted him up onto the roof. Thomas grinned at him. 

Damian flipped forward, grabbing Thomas’s arm, and bracing himself against the man’s chest to leverage movement and loosen his grip on his wrist. He flipped back and used their combined momentum to toss Thomas up and over his head. 

The action left Damian dizzy. He landed on his feet to a world that felt like it was spinning. He threw a hand up to his face, and the next second something solid landed against the back of his head and Damian toppled forward, unconscious. 

He woke in the manor. Even barely lit with the furniture moved around, Damian knew his own home. His head was throbbing, and he was exhausted. Stupid spell, stupid magic, and stupid Damian for relying on it. He should be out of Gotham, rejoining the others, and seeing Pennyworth safe and sound. 

Pennyworth. Damian’s attention snapped up as his voice filled the room. The man was seated across from him, with Bane standing menacingly behind him. Damian felt a presence next to him, but he couldn’t pull his attention off the man he’d entered Gotham to save. 

Everything happened quickly then. Damian found himself helpless to intervene as Bane grabbed Pennyworth’s head. He tried to get up but Thomas’s hand was firm on his shoulder and he hadn’t managed to figure out the ropes holding him to the chair yet. There was a sickening snap as Bane twisted Pennyworth’s head, and Damian felt his world shatter. He shouted, and pulled at the ropes binding him to the chair, jerking away from Thomas’s hand. He couldn’t breathe again, and this time there was no catching his breath. Even as Thomas taunted him, Damian’s focus was on his grandfather. On how his chest no longer rose and fell. On how his head was at an awkward angle. On how he was so still. Too still. How he was--was--was gone. 

He couldn’t catch his breath, and he knew if he didn’t he’d knock himself out. He could already see the spots encroaching on his vision from the side. But it was too much. The idea of having failed? Of Pennyworth being _gone_ was too much to bear. Damian would be ashamed to admit it, but he passed out. The darkness was welcome to his overwhelmed mind and he could not help but hope this was all a bad dream. 

When he woke he was in the cave, strung upside down like some kind of animal. His head was throbbing, abused from the fight, and now the rushing of blood to it. He was afraid he’d be sick. Damian pulled at the ropes attempting to locate and work out the knots holding him there. He had to go, had to get out, to tell the others to-- 

Pennyworth’s face flashed before Damian’s eyes, and grief washed over him, sapping the strength from his hands. He had failed. Damian had screwed up. He’d overestimated his skills and allowed Thomas to return to the manor early. He’d messed up the whole mission, the whole reason he’d come into Gotham in the first place and he’d let Pennyworth die. 

His fault. It was his fault. 

It was all Damian could think. Anytime he thought he’d tossed the thought away to attempt escape, the sound of Pennyworth’s neck snapping cracked in his ears and he saw the scene again and again and again. 

Crying, it turned out, sucked when you were upside down. Damian’s head hurt worse, his nose was stuffed up and he kept hiccuping and gasping. Mother would be so disappointed in him. Drake would mock how red his face was and how he’d allowed himself to fall apart. 

Damian didn’t want to fall apart. He wanted to bury everything inside and get out of here. He didn’t even know if the rest of his family was safe. If Pennyworth hadn’t escaped, then what had happened to them? Thomas had not said a word about them. Hadn’t even seemed to know they existed. The uncertainty was like a pit in his stomach, twisting and turning against the guilt and grief already swirling there. 

Somehow he never quite managed to even get the ropes holding him loosened. There was something wrong, Damian kept thinking. Something was wrong with his head, or with this place. His head was clouded, he kept passing out, and he could not keep a lid on his emotions. It was maddening in the moments he could think about it. 

Then Thomas appearing shocked him out of his stupor. Damian did his best not to flinch away from the gun pressed to his forehead. The cold steel almost cleared up the last of the fog in his mind before it dropped, and Thomas stepped back. 

“Back off.” Drake’s voice filtered into the cave, making both Damian and Thomas turn in it’s direction. 

His brother stepped into the light. Cain, Todd, Duke, and Richard followed him the next moment. Cain and Duke’s attentions were both on Thomas. Richard was looking right at Damian, his body turned ever so slightly in his direction. 

He pulled at the ropes binding him again, his head lightening with the movement. Really, what _was_ wrong with him? 

“I see. So he sent you all here, to reclaim his home. Thinking it was safer? Or--” Thomas broke off, reaching for Damian. 

He grabbed his chin and tugged him forward, the momentum like a swish in Damian’s head, “Perhaps he sent you after the boy.” 

Richard stepped forward, “Let him go.” 

“The boy then.” Thomas said, as if that were always the answer. 

Damian was not sure if it were true. Pennyworth had not been saved, and Damian trapped in his place. Word had surely gotten out. They had to have heard. They must. And to know? To know meant understanding Damian’s failure. A failure so great he did not think anyone would come for him after. 

Thomas released him and Damian swung backward, swaying and unable to stop the momentum rocking him like he were on a ship. The man readied both of his guns, and stepped past Damian. 

“I’m afraid I can’t let any of you succeed.” 

The fight started as Damian was still trying to untie the ropes holding him. He had to help. He couldn’t let anyone else get hurt because of him. He--All he could see was Alfred, and the freezing terror that seemed to come with that image. 

He was shaken again from the memories by hands on his shoulders. Damian blinked up at Richard who’d slipped past the fight and over to him. With a single movement he sliced the ropes holding Damian with a Batarang.

“Hey, there. Need a hand?” Richard was smiling, but his tone was strained with worry. 

Damian tumbled down, unable to catch himself. Thankfully, Richard was still close, scooping him into his arms in a cradle. Damian’s head was spinning, stomach twisted and sick. Being rightside up made it worse. His stomach lurched and Damian had to scramble down, away from Richard’s arms to tumble to the floor. He landed on his hands and knees as his stomach finally turned over and he retched. 

There was nothing but bail for Damian to throw up. The hot acid from his stomach was sour and sharp on his tongue, and throat. When the spinning slowed, he leaned back, face feeling hot. Richard stood above him, turned slightly away in a protective stance. 

Damian peered around him to see the fight, and found the small room they’d been in emptied, the sounds of a fight echoing back towards them. Everyone else had moved further into the cave, probably pushed by Thomas so he could have more room to maneuver. Damian didn’t think the fight would be in his favor, this was his family taking him on after all. But he also had no way of knowing what traps the man might have set up while he’d had control over the cave. 

Richard turned back to look at him, and smiled when he saw Damian sitting up, he reached down and helped him to his feet. Then he put his hands on Damian’s shoulders, looking him over.

“You okay?” 

Damian nodded, “I am simply dizzy, that is all.” he said.

It was the truth, if not the entirety of it. He was dizzy, and sick, and still feeling light headed, and a number of other things he could not explain, but there was not time to get into any of that now. 

Richard did not quite seem convinced, but after a moment nodded, “Alright then, let's join the others. B’s waiting for us to report back.” 

Together they ran into the cave proper. Just as they were arriving smoke exploded throughout the room, causing Damian to cough. It was cloying and felt heavy in his chest, and all too soon it stole his consciousness away from him.

* * *

Bruce was aching and tired and his mind was racing, but at last it was over. Thomas lay unconscious on the floor, with Wesker and the Psycho Pirate anxious but unmoving across the room. 

There was so much to do. Even having defeated Thomas, the weight on Bruce’s shoulders was still incredibly heavy. The city needed rebuilding, the Rogues wrangling, order put back in place. And the smaller things--there were so many. The manor was in shambles, and his cave compromised. 

Most of all Bruce was worried about his family. Selina had managed to avoid being brainwashed by the Pirate, but the others had not been so lucky. Thomas had made it to them before Selina and he had managed to put their full plan into place. He couldn’t stand seeing them just listless as they were, faces blank, postures tense as they waited on orders from a man who would not be giving them. 

It took Bruce longer than he cared to pull his eyes away from the kids, _his kids_ \-- Cass, Duke, Tim, Jason, Dick, and Damian-- and move it to the Pirate. The man looked ready to bolt, even guarded as he was by Selina. 

“Fix them.” the words were a growl of fury bubbling up from his chest, like the first spits of fire from a volcano. 

“I-my mask--”

“You heard the man.” Selina’s tone was soft, but held a tone of warning. 

“It will take time.” Pirate’s eyes flashed between Selina, the vigilantes, and Bruce, “It--”

“Now.” 

The man scrambled to get started. The process wouldn’t necessarily be long for the kids, not like it had been for Claire all those months ago when this was still brewing, but it would take time. And he would have to release them one at a time to ensure all went right. It stirred anxiety in Bruce and worry, even though nothing should go wrong, there was a ball of tension in his chest he was sure wouldn’t dissipate until everyone was okay again. 

Bruce himself was torn. There was so much to do. More than could be done in a reasonable amount of time. Worry for the city, the GCPD, and the citizens of Gotham buzzed in his mind alongside the worry for his family. It was a quieter worry though, at least regarding the city he had help. The Birds of Prey and Spoiler were just a few out helping to set some things back to normal. The kids had been set to help after they’d finished at the manor, but that was impossible with them in the state they were in, and there was no way Bruce was letting any of them head out again tonight. 

He wanted to be out in the city fixing things, but wanted to be here for his family so much more. It was tearing at him to not be able to do everything, but so much of his time had been focused on the city already, on Bane, and Thomas, Bruce wouldn’t waste another moment on anything but his children. 

All he could do was pace. Back and forth across the room as the Pirate worked on Dick. Bruce bristled at the fact that he couldn’t just fix them all now. While he paced, Kate came by and helped Selina with Thomas and Wesker, hauling them out of the room and into the newly restored police force’s hands. 

While they were out, Dick woke up. Bruce was by his side in a moment, as the man surged to his feet, ready to launch himself back into a fight that was no longer happening. 

“Nightwing.” Bruce, pulled his attention back to him, “Look at me, it’s over, it’s okay.” 

“B?” Dick said, turning for a moment before looking back around the room. 

Bruce gently led Dick away, even as his son’s attention was locked on his siblings. He wanted to move away from Pirate both to let the man work, and to have some privacy. When they were just about out of earshot, Bruce turned Dick to face him.

He reached up to brush a thumb across his oldest’s cheek, “How are you feeling?” 

Dick swallowed, “What happened? What about the others?” 

“Dick.” Bruce’s voice was so quiet he wasn’t sure his son heard him, but he did, looking up at Bruce and flipping up his lenses so Bruce could see his eyes. 

Dick reached up and took Bruce’s hand, moving it from his cheek and tangling their fingers together to squeeze. “I’m okay. Please, tell me what happened.” 

They moved to sit by the fireplace, the fire inside still crackling against the chill in the room. As they sat, both men’s attention kept slipping over to the others, all seated next to one another. 

Before he began explaining, Bruce needed to clarify something with Dick, “You don’t remember anything that happened?” 

His son shook his head, “Thomas had traps and knockout gas ready, and Robin was sick.” Dick leaned over looking at Damian again, “I’m not sure what was wrong with him, but between trying to keep him standing and the fight, well I don’t remember much after that.” 

Bruce nodded, “And everyone else was fine?” 

“Yeah, are they still fine?” 

“Yes, at least I think so. We’ll know as everyone comes out of the trance.” 

After that Bruce explained everything that had happened, from how they’d managed to infiltrate Gotham easily to how everything started to fall apart when Thomas showed up during the fight with Bane. And the final fight. 

Dick leaned into him then, wrapping an arm around Bruce’s back to give him a tight squeeze, “I’m just glad it’s over and we can go back to normal.” 

Bruce hummed, and tugged Dick closer, leaning over to press a kiss into his hair, “Me too.” 

Jason was next. Bruce felt comfortable enough leaving Dick in the room to help his second oldest out of the office and into the living room. The office was so stuffy and Bruce knew Jason would want a more open space to really wake up. 

He stood close enough to Jason to be able to reach out, but also give him air. 

Finally, his son looked up at him, and pulled his helmet off. It clattered to the ground as Bruce leaned forward to hug him, caution blown to the wind. Jason hesitated a moment before returning the hug. 

“Your stupid dad from another universe got the drop on us in the cave.” Jason said, pulling away. 

“Dick told me.” 

Jason tsked, a sound an awful lot like Damian’s typical tt, “Of course he did. You won I’m assuming?” 

Bruce nodded and Jason sighed. 

“Good. Is Alfred back? I don’t want to stand around doing nothing and from the look on your face none of us are leaving the house tonight.” 

Alfred. Bruce had been so wrapped up in everything he hadn’t had a chance to check in with the man. Not since he’d hugged him the day before, safe and sound outside of Gotham. 

“I--” Bruce broke off as the sound of the door opening caught both their attentions. 

Selina came in, Alfred on her arm, and grinned at them both.

“See,” she said, letting go of him, “I told you he’d be out here with at least one of them.” 

Part of that tight ball of anxiety in Bruce’s chest loosened seeing Alfred and Selina together. Somehow even knowing he was fine hadn’t quite shooed away all of Bruce’s fears for the man. He had no idea what he’d do if Alfred hadn’t made it out or had been caught up in something between the last time Bruce had seen him and now. 

Alfred was smiling at them both, “I cannot tell you how pleased I am to hear everyone is fine.”

“Almost fine.” Jason said, “As soon as that creepy Pirate finishes unbrainwashing us all.” 

“Jason.” Bruce admonished. 

The study’s door creaked open and Dick’s head poked out, “Tim’s awake.” 

Jason waved Bruce off, “Go, I’m going to help Alfred. I’m sure he can use some extra hands to make this place livable again. Or at least scrape together some kind of dinner. If anyone else has antsy feet send them out.”

Tim was settled onto the couch with Dick when Bruce stepped back into the room. Seeing Bruce, Tim scrambled to his feet then didn’t quite seem to know what to do with himself so he just stood there. 

Bruce took initiative --something he felt like he was going to be doing quite a bit with his out of sorts children tonight-- and tugged Tim into a hug the moment he was close enough. His son melted into the embrace, even with Pirate in the room. He didn’t seem upset at all by the fact that there was still a villain in close proximity. 

“Hey.” Bruce said, voice soft. 

“Sorry.” Tim said, quieter still than Bruce had been.

Bruce pulled back just a little, without actually letting go of Tim, and frowned at him, “What do you mean?” 

Tim shrugged, not quite looking at him, “We messed up. Dick told me about what happened with not-Thomas, and I keep thinking if we’d tweaked our plan a little more, or if I’d reacted faster or just--”

“Stop that,” Bruce told him, “We talked about this before we even left. There were too many variables to plan for everything. Do not blame yourself for any of this.” 

Dick stood and joined them reaching out to ruffled Tim’s hair, “Yeah, and honestly it went so much better than it could. We’re all alive after all.” 

Tim smiled at that and nodded before ducking away from the hug and both of them, “Right, you’re right.” he sat back down on the couch, “I’m going to just, wait here for a bit if that’s alright?” 

“Of course, take however much time you need.” 

With Tim that was half the kids really, truly, fine. Bruce knew the tightness in his chest wouldn’t be gone until they were all free and he’d checked them all out individually. He wasn’t sure even then it would fully ease up. His kids had gone into danger, and had fallen prey to it. Thomas could have done anything to them. 

Bruce glanced at Damian and the guilt in his stomach seemed to double. He’d let his youngest go in alone. Let Damian convince him that it was the best way. That he was the only one who could handle magic, and that it was safer to let him go in and out quickly. That plan had crashed and failed. As had his others after. 

Tim might have blamed himself, but if anyone was to blame for this mess it was all on Bruce. 

Duke woke next, and Dick and Tim swarmed him before Bruce had a chance to move close. He stood back and let the boys help sort out the initial confusion of finding oneself not in the cave, but the manor proper and Thomas’s study of all places. 

After a few minutes, Duke stepped over to Bruce and moved in to hug him, “Tim says you had about as bad a day as we did.” 

“It’s getting better and better.” Bruce said, “You feeling alright?” 

He was worried more and more about each kid still under the Pirate’s spell. Who knew what kinds of effects it might have the longer someone was under? It wasn’t a strong or deeply embedded spell, but that didn’t stop Bruce’s fretting. 

“Yeah. I’m actually pretty hungry, but otherwise I’m doing okay.” 

“Hood said they were going to try to figure out the food situation, want to go see if they’ve made any progress?” Bruce suggested. 

Duke nodded enthusiastically, “Yes. I’d go for anything right now.” 

Bruce chuckled as the boy pulled away and grabbed Tim’s attention, taking him alongside on his newfound quest for food. 

Dick stayed behind, attention on his two remaining siblings. Bruce settled in to stand by him again. 

There was something impossible and terrible about the way Bruce felt. Having all of the children under his care in danger like this was enough to make him sick. Even knowing most were fine. Most were safe, he hated this. Hated that they’d been in danger, hated that he knew they’d be dealing with nightmares after this. That there was more trauma in what should have been easy and safe. There was safety in numbers and it had put his family in worse danger than he’d wished. 

Cass crashed into him with a hug the moment she could. Bruce hadn’t even known she was awake yet when a blur of black came hurtling into his chest. 

After squeezing him tightly she pulled back and looked over him. She reached up and brushed fingers along his jaw where he knew a bruise was probably already blooming. They trailed down from there to his shoulder.

“You are hurting.” She said. 

Her tone held both worry and a little anger. Maybe upset at him, but more likely upset at the fact that Bruce was hurt. 

Bruce pulled her hand from his shoulder and squeezed it, “I’m alright. It’s nothing too serious.” 

It wasn’t. Not compared to what could have been. And it was certainly nothing when he considered what he’d already faced dealing with Bane and Thomas. Still he didn’t want to worry her too much.

“When everyone else has been checked out and I’m sure there are no hidden injuries I’ll get patched up.” he told her. 

“Promise?” she asked.

Bruce nodded, and pulled her into a hug, “Now tell me how _you’re_ feeling.” 

She tried to squirm away, but Bruce’s hug was just tight enough to tell her she wasn’t getting off easy. Two could play the game of being hard headed. 

Cass rolled her eyes up at him but sighed, “Tired.” she leaned a little more into him, “But happy everything is over.” 

The door creaked open again with Tim’s head poking in, “Snacks and cocoa are ready.” 

Bruce wasn’t ready to leave, but his stomach gurgled at the word snacks. Cass tugged his arm insistent. His attention turned to Damian then back to Dick. His oldest waved him off with a smile.

“Go, I’ll let you know the moment he’s awake.” 

Dick’s dismissal and Cass’s tugging eventually got Bruce out of the room. The kitchen was the cleanest part of the manor he’d seen so far. His kids, Selina, and Alfred were all piled around the bar in the kitchen picking at sandwitches, with scattered mugs around. There was an air of casualty about them, with masks removed and uniforms partially pulled off. 

Cass lifted two sandwiches, and handed one to Bruce before sliding into an open stool. Bruce stayed standing. He knew he should sit but how could he when he still had one kid waiting for him? The sandwich was probably good, but Bruce didn’t taste it at all as he ate, listening to the hushed conversation around the bar. The feeling in the room was one of relief and exhaustion only a full night’s rest had any hopes of wiping away. 

Alfred seemed to sense his unease. He stood and pulled Bruce out of the kitchen, and back towards the office. The closer they were the less anxious Bruce seemed to feel, he was within arms reach if anything happened and that was--that was good. 

Being this close to Alfred, and in the relative quiet of the hallway brought back every fear that had plagued him while Alfred had been on his own in Gotham. Really how had any of this gotten so bad? It never should have and yet here they were. 

Again, Alfred could read him. Alfred could always read him. There was no need for Bruce to initiate a hug this time, Alfred folded him into a tight bear hug. The best thing in the world was a bear hug from Alfred, and Bruce melted into this one. He buried his face in his dad’s shoulder, savoring the fact that he was real, that nothing had happened to him while they’d been away, that at least one part of this wild insane plan had gone right. 

“My boy.” Alfred said, patting his back, “I am quite alright.” 

There was something tight in Bruce’s throat at that. Something tight and hot and hard that had stuck there since Thomas had appeared in their world. That thing that fought against every time Thomas had called him son. That had rejected the idea of being anyone’s child but this man’s. 

“I’m glad.” Bruce said, “I--”

“I love you too.” Alfred pulled away gingerly, “You are and have always been my treasure, son.” 

He nodded into Alfred’s shoulder and squeezed his own hug in return. There were a hundred other things that could be said, but they needed far more time than both of them had at the moment to say those things. Maybe later, after Bruce was sure each of the kids were okay, and they were all tucked safely in beds. 

Alfred pulled away first, and nodded towards the office door, “You’ll bring Master Damian out when he’s awake?” 

“Of course, I’m sure he’ll be eager to see you.” 

“Good.” Alfred smiled, “I’ve been in the process of cleaning sheets and blankets for the night. In the morning we will begin sorting everything out and soon the house will feel like a home again.” 

“Thank you.” Bruce said, “Thank you for everything, Alfred.” 

“Always, my boy.” 

Bruce slipped away from Alfred and back into the room, eyes on Damian the moment he was inside. Honestly it felt like it was taking forever to get him back. In reality it had been no longer yet than it had taken the Pirate to pull the hypnosis off any of the kids. The waiting was simply eating at Bruce. One child left, his youngest. The one he probably should have insisted Pirate work on first. 

Out of all the others Bruce was worried the most about Damian. The boy’s insistence on being the one to go into Gotham, to act as distraction had been something Bruce hadn’t wanted to allow, but his youngest had more of his temperament than Bruce cared to admit. He would have gone in no matter what, so Bruce had done _everything_ he could to make sure his kid was safe. He’d gone over the plan a hundred times. Laid out an escape route that should have worked perfectly. He’d all but offered to shadow the child himself, but Damian’s insistence that anyone else would be a risk had forced Bruce to hold off on that. 

And in the end it had been for naught. His boy had been taken, shoved in Alfred’s recently vacated place as hostage and there’d been nothing Bruce could do about it. 

He could see bruising on Damian’s brow above an eye, and blooming on a cheek and knew there was more damage hidden beneath his uniform. The others had been hurt, but Damian had been here, with Thomas, unsupervised and alone for days. Bruce had no idea what had happened during that time. 

“Father?” 

Bruce closed the distance between them in two strides, shoving between the Pirate and Damian to scoop the child into his arms. In Bruce’s periphery he saw Dick pulling the Pirate from the room, and heard the click of the door. 

Damian’s arms slipped up around Bruce’s back the moment they were alone, and he buried his face close to his neck, “Father.” this time the word was tiny, smaller than Bruce had ever heard it, and full of--Bruce wasn’t sure what. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” Bruce said, pulling back a little to look over his youngest. 

“The others?” Damian asked, turning to look around the room, “Where are they? What happened?” 

“They’re fine. Everyone’s fine, they’re all in the kitchen, and okay.” Bruce said, “Everything is going to be okay, Thomas and Bane are both taken care of.” 

Damian nodded, hands clutched at Bruce’s cape. He was quiet and clingy in a way he rarely showed. He hadn’t even asked to be set down yet. 

“Tell me what happened while you were here?” Bruce asked, thumb reaching up to brush across Damian’s cheek and the bruise growing there. 

Damian shifted a bit, and looked away from him, even with his lenses in place he didn’t seem to want to make eye contact. Bruce realized he still had his cowl on and tugged it back, then tilted Damian’s face back to him. 

“Damian.” he prompted. 

“I lost.” Damian muttered, “I miscalculated how much energy the spell would require and it impacted my ability to fight.” 

Bruce hummed, and walked over to the couch in the room, sitting down and shifting Damian to where he was settled in his lap, “What happened then?” 

“I--” Damian broke off, body going stiff. 

He looked up at Bruce and if his mask were off Bruce would have guessed the boy’s eyes were wide with how open and shocked he looked. No, not shocked, stricken, and pale. All the color had washed out of his face. His hands dropped from where they’d still been wrapped around Bruce’s neck to ball into fists in his lap. If Bruce’s arms hadn’t still been around him, he had a feeling Damian would have bolted. 

“What’s wrong?” Bruce asked, defenses back on high, “What did he do to you?” 

Dick had told Bruce about how badly Damian had reacted to anger in his voice the first year they’d worked together. Bruce himself had noticed the boy’s tendency to react badly to anger, and assume it was directed at him, so whenever he was truly angry about something that had been done to his boy Bruce tried his best to squelch the sound of his fury in his voice. This time he couldn’t quite stop it from happening. The thought of anything happening to Damian that would have caused this reaction after everything else Thomas had done was sickening. 

Damian shook his head, and swallowed, his gaze dropping away from Bruce. 

“It wasn’t him, it was me. It’s my fault.” Damian’s voice was hoarse, like he was holding back tears. 

“What do you mean?” Bruce asked. 

Damian’s hands squeezed tighter in his lap, “It’s my fault.” he repeated, the words almost inaudible. 

Bruce had to tilt his face up again so he would look at him, “Damian I need you to tell me what you mean. I have no idea what you're talking about.” 

This made Damian jerk his head up in shock, his mouth agape, “You must know.” he said, sitting up even straighter, “Someone had to tell you, someone had to--” he broke off his chest catching before Damian started to breathe too fast, all his careful control lost as panic set in.

“Damian,” Bruce said, letting go of him to grab his shoulders, “Damian calm down and tell me what’s going on.” 

“Pennyworth.” Damian gasped, “He’s--he’s--I watched him--Bane.” 

He didn’t seem able to get out any full thought, but Bruce was starting to put things together. Dick had mentioned something was wrong with Damian when they’d found him, and Thomas had proved himself eager to abuse Psycho Pirate’s powers. He must have forced a vision on Damian designed to keep him from fighting too much. 

“He’s-” Damian hiccuped, “Gone.” the word cracked as tears started to slip out from under Damian’s mask. The boy’s shoulders were shaking, his whole body shuddering as he hiccuped and gasped. 

“Damian, Damian look at me.” Bruce said, cupping his boy’s face, “Alfred’s fine. He’s okay.” 

“No!” the word was a shout, as Damian jerked back, almost flinging himself from Bruce’s lap, “No! You’re wrong! I watched it happen! I watched Bane kill him, he was dead!” the flood of words came out loud and only continued to rise in volume as Damian went on. 

The door flew open and Dick rushed in, eyes wide as he took in the scene. 

“Get Alfred.” Bruce commanded, “Now.” 

Dick didn’t even hesitate, he spun on his heel and disappeared from the doorway. 

Meanwhile, Damian continued to sob. He lifted his hands from his lap and pounded against Bruce’s chest, hitting the armor with a smack, “He’s gone! He’s gone! And it’s my fault! It’s all my fault!” he repeated, face red and voice cracking again. 

He went to hit Bruce’s chest again and Bruce caught his hands before he could hurt them by beating against Bruce’s armor, “Calm down, and breathe for me.” he said, “Just breathe.” 

To his credit, Damian tried. He took in one shuddering breath before a sob burst from his chest. Instead of continuing his yelling, his tears fell harder, his whole body curling in on itself. Bruce dropped his hands to reach out and peel the mask of his boy’s face. It came off easily, the spirit glue loosened from age and tears. 

The tears only seemed to come freer when his eyes were revealed. He kept hiccuping and attempting to breathe while silently crying. It broke Bruce’s heart, and he wished he could get Damian to just listen to him, but it seemed the last of the Pirate’s spell would only be removed with Alfred’s presence. He hoped. 

“Sorry, he was upstairs.” Dick said, crashing into the room. 

Alfred was on his heels, moving into the room, alarm clear on his face. 

“What is the matter?” he asked. 

At the sound of his voice, Damian jerked up, and scrambled off Bruce’s lap. He let him, knowing the boy needed Alfred right then more than Bruce.He stood for a moment looking at Alfred and then burst forward, crashing into Alfred with enough force to send the man stepping back. He caught Damian, arms wrapping tightly around the boy in an immediate hug. 

Damian stayed there, silently holding Alfred for a long time. Finally, without moving an inch, Damian spoke. 

“You’re alive.” His voice was muffled, but Bruce could hear the relief even from the couch. 

He stood and stepped closer, moving to stand beside Dick as he seemed to hover close, equally worried about Damian. 

“I am.” Alfred said, glancing up at them with a questioning look. 

Whatever he saw in Bruce’s expression made him nod, and he seemed to squeeze Damian a little tighter, “Did something happen to make you believe otherwise?” 

Damian nodded, “I thought--I saw--Bane, he killed you.” 

Alfred pulled back and knelt before Damian, “I am alright. By the time you made it to Gotham I was safe.” 

“It was a lie then?” Damian looked up finally, catching Bruce’s eye. 

“It seems you were exposed to Psycho Pirate before the others.” Bruce said, “Did you feel off at all while here?” 

The answer was obvious from the surprise and recognition on Damian’s face, “I was sick, and dizzy. I kept--” he broke off looking over at Alfred again, “I kept seeing you die whenever I tried to get away.” 

His face scrunched up, his nose wrinkling as the tears began again, “I’m sorry.” he said, “I’m so sorry, I thought I’d failed, I thought I’d gotten you killed. I thought it was all my fault, and I couldn’t stand it.” 

Alfred shook his head, “No, you must not think that way. It was my job to let you all know when I was safe. If I had sent that word out and lied about it then the consequences are on me, not you.” 

“But--”

“Listen, to me.” Alfred said, his voice firm, “It would not have been your fault. I would not blame you, and neither would your family. Do you understand?”

Damian swallowed down whatever argument he had concocted, “Yes.”

“Good.” Alfred leaned forward and hugged Damian again.

“I love you.” Damian said, squeezing Alfred back, “And I am happy you are okay.” 

After that they broke apart, and Alfred ushered them out of the room with declarations that everyone needed to change and shower before bed. As everyone began moving, Damian lingered behind, close to Bruce.

He acted on instinct, and leaned over to scoop Damian back up, “Come on.” he said, “Let’s see if that sweater you love to sneak out of my closet is still where it belongs.” 

Damian leaned into Bruce’s chest, quiet again, but this time more out of exhaustion than worry. His eyes were heavy by the time they made it upstairs, and to Damian’s room. Even so he clung to Bruce as he tried to set him down. 

“I’m not leaving for good, but we both need to shower, and I promised you a sweater.” he told him, “Think you can handle a few minutes on your own?” 

Damian nodded and Bruce shuffled him off to the shower before hurrying off to his own room. Thankfully, things had been left alone for the most part. The thought of hands rifling through anything in the manor reminded Bruce of how much they had left to do, big and little. 

Bruce pulled out the soft sweater he knew Damian liked and some clothes of his own, then quickly showered himself. He’d love to have lingered for a while, but he was anxious to get back to Damian and then the rest of the family. 

When he was dressed in comfortable sweats, he moved back across the hall, sweater for Damian in hand. He could hear movement through the rooms around him, and spotted his children moving around in various stages of preparation for bed. 

Alfred had announced to the whole group that there were clean bedclothes in a number of guestrooms, or suggested they all camp out in the living room. It had been a unanimous decision to camp out together. It seemed like no one wanted to spend the night alone. 

Damian was pulling pants on as Bruce entered with a light knock. His hair was sticking up at all ends, towel dried. There were a few fresh bruises spread across Damian’s chest, but he looked better than Bruce had expected. 

He held the sweater out to the boy who slipped into it without a second thought. It was adorable on him, over sized and far too long in the sleeves. Bruce waved him over.

“Come here.” he said.

“I do not need to be carried again.” Damian told him.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Bruce smiled down at him. 

Damian rolled his eyes, but did not fight being lifted again. In fact, he snuggled into Bruce’s chest, and yawning.

“Will we collect Titus and the others tomorrow?” 

Bruce hummed an affirmative. His son’s pets were safe, shuffled off to a secure location when things were getting bad. Picking them up was just another thing in the far too long list of stuff to do. 

“That and lots more.”

When everyone was settled downstairs, pillows and blankets piled all around the room, and snoring children surrounding him Bruce felt the last of his tension leak out of him. Damian was pressed close to him, with Tim on his other side. Dick had picked a spot close enough where he could reach out and grab Bruce’s hand if he wanted to. The others were all snuggled close on the floor. The only two not part of the pile of blankets and pillows were Alfred and Selina, both having taken couches at the group’s insistence. 

Listening to everyone’s soft breathing or little snores had a soothing effect on Bruce and worked to clear away the last lingering feeling of tightness in his chest. So much had happened, and they’d been through enough to drive them all to therapy and back time and time again yet they were all here. Safe, and sound, and together. There wasn’t anything else in the world Bruce could ask for that was better than that. 


End file.
